poetry bombing the alley

In the Mama Scout e-lab I am facilitating this month (and next month too, if you want to register) we are working with ideas of parenting as performance art and doing little acts of public art. 

I live for this stuff. We have sent messages in bottles, left messages guerrilla style in public spaces,  and tried to be open to situations were we could spread kindness. 

Many nights I walk my old dog down the moonlit alley behind my house. 

There is a tree with such huge leaves, that when I am standing there waiting for my dog to pee, I always stare at them, transfixed.

They remind me of turning book pages when they blow in the breeze; they have such heft.

And they beg to have poetry written on them. 

On a piece of vellum, I wrote out the poem, All Things Pass by Lao-Tzu for all those who pass, and sewed it gently onto a branch. It was a windy day, and as soon as it was attached it began blowing around and fluttering like a leaf. A leaf poem that had married itself into the being of the tree.

This little, tiny act of art fueled me for the rest of the day. 

I am not sure what the affect on my son was other than he gets to grow up thinking it is normal to have a mom that sews beautiful words to her neighborhood.